The Walk
by JustAnotherAuthorDurping
Summary: “And what if I don’t want to forgive you? I could very well take what I want without asking.” Mid AWE; Elizabeth tries to make amends with Jack. Song-fic. Rated M for sensual situations. R&R?


A/N: This song is so beautiful, I really recommend you go and listen to it while you read this. _Please_ review. Seriously, I have like thirty-one people on stats for favorite author, and only about six of you ever have the decency to review. So please, leave a nice little (though preferably long ;D ) review and tell me if you loved this or not. Oh, and I figured since I turn 14 this month, I'd try something new – an M rated fic! O: Gods known and unknown help us all. ..

**Artist:** Imogen Heap  
**Song:** The Walk  
**Album:** Speak For Yourself  
**Rating: **M for sensual situations  
**Setting:**Mid-AWE, between the Brethren Court meeting and the war with the East India Trading Company  
**Pairing:** Sparrabeth  
**Beta:** Zay-la (**Zayz**) Thank you _so_ much for helping me with this – I believe it came out far better with your advice & whatnot. You're a lifesaver dear.  
**Note:** I _did_ take out the following lines/sections for a number of reasons either the facts that I didn't like them, or that they were too repetitive: _Alright then (Alright then) I could keep your number for a rainy day/ That's where this ends, no mistakes no misbehaving/ Oh, I was doing so well, can we just be friends/ I feel a weakness coming on._ And also _Feel like this la la la la la la la la/ It's all your fault (Feel like this) la la la la la la la la/ It's all your fault (Feel like this) la la la la la la la la It's all your fault (Feel like this) la la la la la la la la  
_**Second Note:** Look, this is my _first_ M fic, so if you'd all review _gently_, that'd be just peachy-king. I'm already super touchy about writing about this, no pun intended. TT

**Disclaimer: Did this happen in the movies? We all wish.**

**The Walk:**

Shipwreck Cove was bustling with life that starry evening.

Pirates, scoundrels, and thieves alike – all of them were preparing themselves and their vessels for the morning that lie ahead of them; loading gun powder, checking canons, charting strategies, and some even celebrating what they believed to be a victory that was already held in their palms. The taverns were filled with an abnormally large amount of rouges, most of them drinking till their hearts content. Shanties could be heard echoing through the cove, tales of the sea and one's adventures on it, or even songs of magical beings that lived in the ocean. Enigmatic pale green mermaids that looked as delicate of flowers, with their long flowing hair, and soft features. Or fierce leviathans, with jaws wide enough that they could swallow a ship whole, their teeth sharper then any cutlass, their eyes more terrifying then any man had ever seen. Even the gods were mentioned in a shanty or two, their lives and secrets sung in whispers so they would not be heard by the divinities themselves.

However, there was one being who was not in Shipwreck City at that moment – the Pirate King.

Standing on the stern-castle deck of the _Black_ _Pearl_, Elizabeth Swann ran her fingers along the smooth spokes of the wheel, marveling at warmth that seemed to flow from the wood to her fingers. The sails fluttered, quiet snapping sounds echoing across the deck as the cool sea air murmured secrets of the depths into the sky. Elizabeth looked up and watched the sails for a moment, and then descended onto the main deck, deliberately taking long slow strides while she trailed her palms along the weathered railing, and then up the shrouds that eventually led to the firm rope rigging.

She repeated this process until she had circled the entire main deck twice and then walked towards the center, stopping right at the main mast. Her eyes regarded it for a moment, trailing down its wooden body to the capstan, and then stopping at the metal objects that hung from it. With hesitance, she reached out and fingered the cold metal chains for a moment, and then grabbed the end of the manacles. They were ice cold. She drew her fingers away quickly, almost as if the cuffs had burned her. Pushing some grim thoughts from her mind, she turned away from the mast, and strode back towards the stairs that led to the helm.

She was committing every detail of the shadowy beauty of a ship to her mind, memorizing even the smallest most insignificant details, from how many spokes the wheel had to the number of steps it took to reach the helm. The want to remember the vessel by heart was so pure and desperate – she _needed_ to have the memory of it, including all the hurt, guilt, and betrayal following it wherever it was sailed.

It was an obvious fact that the _Pearl_ and maybe even its crew may not survive the war. With the knowledge that even _she_ might not even live to tell the tale of it, Elizabeth had decided to admire the ship while it was still whole for one more evening alone. No other crew members were on the vessel; all the cargo had already been loaded, along with extra canons and weapons. She had as long as she wanted to explore the ship, going into any room she desired.

She paused once she reached the spot between the stairs - before her were two grand doors, leading into the captain's cabin. The only time she had ever been in the room was twice when Barbossa was captain and she was held captive. She reached out and ran her fingers along the wooden doors with interest. Surely it looked different now that Jack was once again captain of the _Pearl_?

Turning, she strode over to where a lantern hung, a small candle glowing weakly in it and took it down, walking back to the doors. Though she knew she was the only person aboard the vessel, Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder with unease for a moment, and then pulled the door open, slipped inside, and closed it firmly behind herself.

An immediate change she noticed when she walked into Jack's cabin without even turning to look around was the smell; the cabin had a slightly exotic aroma to it, something spicy, perhaps? The scent was comforting and familiar. Inhaling, she turned and held the lantern high, allowing her eyes to adjust for a moment to the dancing shadows that crossed the room as she walked further into the room.

Surprisingly, his cabin was not as messy as she would think it to be. A large mahogany desk stood in the room, charts and maps laid out on top of one another. A few shelves were stationed around the large windows, most of them holding various books or candles, though Elizabeth witnessed a small globe too. Lighting a few of the candles on the tables and walls, she paced around the cabin, leafing through different books, most of them on sailing. It occurred to her several times that she was going through Jack's personal quarters when he was not there, and the thought made something jerk slightly in her stomach, but she ignored it.

Selecting a rather worn and tattered book off a shelf, she was shocked to see it was a collection of Shakespeare's works; she did not think Jack, let alone _any_ pirate would be interested in any type of literature, particularly something like Shakespeare. She gave a small laugh, and put the book back.

"Oh Jack," she murmured with a small smile, sitting at his desk and eyeing a bottle that sat (surprisingly half full) in front of her. Without much thought, she took the bottle and drank from it, choking slightly when the amber liquid burnt her throat, making her eyes water.

She mused where Jack was; certainly he was out either drinking himself senseless, or finding some company with many of the eager woman of Shipwreck City. When she realized the thought made her seethe, she bit her lip and shook her head, beginning to get frustrated with herself whenever she thought of the swaggering scoundrel.

For she had never _meant_ to fall in love with the pirate.

She wished he would stop invading her thoughts and taking over her mind; the mere idea of him made her feel tender, unstable, as though she would fall to pieces any moment, and her world along with her. Even when he was not physically around her, his being haunted her mind incessantly, forever creating a sense of turmoil and remorse inside the young woman's mind.

It was strange, her desire for him; it was abstract in a way, not fitting the way one would depict one's yearning for another, not relating in any way with her love for Will. Her longing for Jack was filled with hate and want, love and lust, torment and peace, making it so erroneous that it was _almost_ right.

A portion of her mind that had rarely been tapped into before longed to be held in his arms, to let her fingers graze across the beautiful imperfections of his body, the scars that held so many tales of disloyalty and anguish.

_Inside out, upside-down twisting beside myself,  
__Stop that now, cause you and I were never meant to be  
__I think you better leave; it's not safe in here,  
__I feel a weakness coming on._

But it _wasn't_ right.

_It was not meant to be,_ she had told herself countless times before, trying so desperately to ease her untamed feelings for him. She did not want to feel this way. Her heart pushed and pulled both to her blacksmith, and to her pirate, causing uncertainty and culpability to wreak chaos her mind and soul.

She felt ashamed, for in a way she was betraying Will, wasn't she? Having feelings that may even be stronger for another man besides him, her fiancé, was surely wrong – how could she allow herself to fall in love with Jack? How was it possible for her to fall in love with that despicable pirate? She did not want to feel this, the flurry of emotions that came when she found herself pondering on the cunning man. It tore at her delicately crafted moral center, shredding it to pieces, making her even feebler to his advances.

It _had_ to be his fault, it just had to be. He had charmed and wormed his way into her mind, bewitching her with romanticized tales of the freedom and grandeur of being a pirate, and she had fallen more then willingly into his net, stuck between the lustful thoughts of a woman, and the girlish notions of true-love. He was forever taunting her callously, luring her like a fish to bait by offering everything she could have wanted; yet when it came down it, she found herself siding with the half of her mind Will still inhabited.

_It's not meant to be like this, not what I planned at all,  
__I don't want to feel like this, Yeah,  
__No it's not meant to be like this, not what I planned at all,  
__I don't want to feel like this, so that makes it all your fault._

Will… he was right. He was safe, a sturdy base beneath her reckless feet when everything else was crumbling apart. Though he was anything but perfect, he loved her with the purity with an angel, standing by her side loyally in an ever ready position to defend and stick up for her. He was willing to give his life for hers, to jump between her and the face of danger in an instant, valuing her life as if it were his own.

But… he was _wrong_.

Jack – he made even less sense then Will. His portentous presence had not been counted upon, not been formulated into her plans. Charming, sly, and temerarious, he was the wind; making spontaneous irrational decisions that could cast him into a whirlwind of adventure, but then changing his mind and altering those decisions as swiftly as they came. He flitted in and out as he pleased, taking what he could, giving nothing back, and achieving it all in with a manner that could only be described as an unusual form of untailored suavity. He blew her into a spiraling hurricane of impetuous, unrestricted escapades, making near-death seem like par for the course; which both horrified her and made hot blood rush through her veins headily.

Protecting her never seemed part of his plan, but she would be a fool to deny that whenever a situation was at its worse, he swung in, just in time, to nimbly swipe her up and toss her into the next phase of their mission. He proved her notions (though he always took them more as accusations) of his being a good man correct, didn't he?

She was voracious for the freedom of being able to fling herself into the world without restraint, making the most of life and what it offered her. Though her base kept her steady, her wind kept her alive. She needed them both to balance herself, yet she could only have one of them.

Not that _he_ would ever have her – she had, after all, killed him, something he had not spoken about to her since they had rescued him from the Locker. She did not blame him, but his avoidance caused her both unbearable ache, and unadulterated pain; would he ever listen and allow her to make amends, or would he force them to remain in this suffocating silence?

She hated it, the endless battle they always seemed to be in the middle of, stubborn pride keeping either of them from doing anything to solve their quarrels. Though both of them had witnessed the raw, unrefined creature inside their tough, seemingly resilient shells, they were both prone to hiding underneath those shells, rarely coming out from them unless the moment suited.

Snatching the rum bottle again, she took another avid gulp of it, this time enjoying the burning sensation that lingered in her mouth; it wiped away some of her chaotic emotions, and soothed her nerves.

She smirked.

_A little more like Jack everyday. _

She set down the bottle and was about to get up, when a voice from behind startled her.

"S'any particular reason why you're in me cabin without permission?"

_Speak of the devil, and the devil himself shall appear._

The familiar slurred accent held a hint of a sneer to it, and without even looking at him she could tell that he was smirking at her. Her heart seemed to have a spasm for a moment, either from the surprising entrance, or him just merely being there, she could not tell.

With some difficulty, she kept her eyes trained on the glass paned windows, allowing herself to become as hard and impenetrable as she could.

"One does not need the captain's permission to enter the grand cabin," she answered defiantly, though cautious nevertheless. "Any member of the crew is free to come and go as they wish."

The tension seemed to suspend them both in a thick, discomforting silence for what felt like far longer than the few moments that it was. Elizabeth refused to speak again, or run up and beg for his forgiveness – she was not some weak sniveling woman dependant on the man she cared for. If he was to forgive her, it would be by his own decision.

"Right as you are," Jack finally said, breaking the silence, "that statement is only valid while sailing out at sea, not when docked. Otherwise, it would be considered attempted mutiny." He paused. "So you may want to heighten your reason pet, or I might have to consider punishment for your perfidious prying about."

She snorted. "If coming in to sit and ponder over events is considered a traitorous act, then I shall willingly throw myself overboard."

Well, it was not the complete truth, but it was neither a complete lie.

"A charming notion indeed," he commented.

Pulling himself away from the doorframe, he strode towards her, each step emitting a low thud. The young woman's head twitched to look over her shoulder, but she held strong, her fingers curling into a fist, her body tensing until he was right beside her. Wrenching her gaze from the glass, her eyes settled on his, borrowing into them for the first time in a while. His black obsidian eyes bore into hers, and she had to do everything to keep herself from turning away.

With genuine curiosity, he wondered aloud to himself, "Though I have to wonder, Miss. Swann, what recent dealings you happen to be mulling over in _my_ quarters. Or is it Mrs. Turner now? You did seem impatient to get joined in holy nuptials before my adverse and needless death."

Her cheeks burned in both anger and embarrassment. "Don't talk of that," she snapped. "Will betrayed me - he turned his back on all of us."

"Not so fun, is it darling?" Jack inquired, his eyes narrowing while his lips curled upwards into a cruel grin.

"I…"

"Don't worry love – no explanations are needed to know that it's all happy as a clam until you get wronged."

A dagger seemed to thrust itself through Elizabeth's chest, her heart aching with repentance and perfidy that began to spread through her veins in painfully slow throbs. Willing herself not to fall apart, she shifted her glance to the desk, pretending to gaze at a map with interest.

Jack strode around the desk and folded himself into a chair, lashing out and grabbing the bottle of rum quickly. "You are selfish love, you know that?"

"No more selfish than you or any other pirate."

"But I, on the other hand, am still altruistic enough not to kill his own man."

Her mouth fell open slightly, taken aback. "Jack…"

Shutting her eyes for a moment, she inhaled, and pushed herself to continue on. "I am _not_ sorry for what I did. If I could go back and change things, I would not have done anything different." She now looked up at him with bold eyes. "When I said I was not sorry, I meant it – I was not sorry for kissing you, and even now, I would not alter that moment for the world."

Jack's face became unmoving, listening to her intently, however with no evident emotion showing. Frustrated with this, Elizabeth stood up, and began circling the desk, feeling a strange jolt run through her when she breezed past him. He was making it so much more difficult for her – her restraint was beginning to fall, and even though he had not touched her the entire time he had been in the room, she felt as if he had. Her thoughts began to come in jumbles as she tried to rearrange herself properly.

_Inside out, upside-down twisting beside myself,  
__Stop that now; you're as close as it gets without touching me,  
__Oh no, don't make it harder than it already is,_

Taking her hat off, she tried ran her fingers through her hair, only to realize that it was pinned back. Giving a growl of annoyance, she clawed at her tresses, barely cognizant of the fact that Jack's eyes were watching her every move, tearing pins and ties out until a small pile had littered the ground. She shook her mane out, sifting her hands through it rapidly.

"I was sorry when I left you for the kraken Jack, sorrier then I had ever felt in my entire life," she confided, almost as if she were explaining this to herself more then him. "You have no idea, _no damn clue_, how less bright the world seemed without you here – it felt almost as if all the sun itself has been plucked from the sky, taking all the joy on the earth with it." She turned around and looked at him – he still sat at the desk, his eyes focused on her completely.

"But that was nothing compared to what I felt once we arrived to the Locker," she continued on, her voice lowering to an agitated whisper, as she began her uneasy pacing once again with her eyes following the floor. "I did not even think we would find you there. If we hadn't found you, I…" Her voice trembled. "I'm not sure what I'd of done."

Their eyes locked together for a moment, emotions running through an invisible tie between them in an unwavering flood, both of their guards down at that moment, allowing each other to access the bedlam that thrashed inside of one another. However, beneath the mayhem, unresolved longing showed fiercely in both of them.

_Mmm, I feel a weakness coming on._

Dropping her gaze once more, she turned her head, almost embarrassed that she had opened up so much for him; she had felt such a need to explain herself, to try to make an attempt to mend what seemed to be an unfixable dilemma between them. She did not want to go into war the next morning with hate and anger towards the captain, already battling her own personal fight. No, she was to resolve it, and do it now.

Lifting her head up, she stifled a gasp by biting her tongue - Jack stood right by her now, his shadowy orbs searching her face intensely, his mouth opening as if he were to say something.

"One moment I want to kiss the bloody hell out of you Miss. Swann," he told her earnestly, glancing down at her lips with black eyes that made her breath catch in her throat. Looking back to the windows of her being, he continued with uncertainty, "The next, I hate you enough to murder you right on the spot."

With a nervous intake of breath, Elizabeth said softly, "Then do it – we'd be square then, wouldn't we?"

Once again, his mouth opened, but nothing came out. Grimacing, he stepped forward.

"And then where would we be, love?" His tone held a sense of ironic amusement.

Elizabeth thought for a moment. "We'd be even then and you… you would be free to live your life without unsettled resentment. Isn't that what you always want Jack? The freedom of not being chained to anything?"

He took a step forward, and she back, unsure of what his intentions were. Though she had offered to give her life, she knew he would not take up on the offer, for it was not him. She had never known Jack to kill a woman, and as she quickly ran through events in her mind, she realized that the only person he had ever killed whilst knowing her was his ex-first mate, Hector Barbossa, and he had been anything but innocent. Not that she was sinless though…

He kept moving towards her, and she kept stepping back, until her body met with the solid wall. Biting her lip, she noticed that she was now cornered like a frightened rabbit by a famished pack of wolves.

Stopping a foot away from her, his eyes quickly flashed up and down her figure once, making Elizabeth's stomach lurch yet again. How did he manage to always make her feel that heady feeling throughout her body and make her blood rush in deafening roars? It unsettled her in ways she wished she would not feel.

_It's not meant to be like this, not what I planned at all,  
__I don't want to feel like this, Yeah,  
__No it's not meant to be like this, not what I planned at all,  
__I don't want to feel like this, so that makes it all your fault._

Lifting a hand, he brushed his thumb over her cheek, making her gasp quickly as her eyelids struggled to stay open, a battle surging inside her at that moment furiously. She should get out of there right now. Leave before she did something irrational… something reckless that would knock her base right out of from beneath her feet.

"Why should I forgive you?" Jack asked, breaking the distance between them so his body was mere inches away from hers, his thumb running over her jaw.

Trembling slightly, Elizabeth gave in, her eyes closing. Her mind was swimming with millions of different of thoughts, ideas, warnings that screamed into her ears all at once, making thinking difficult. Trying to process a coherent answer, she unconsciously leaned into his touch, a sigh escaping her half-parted lips.

"So things can be how they once were," she managed to murmur. "I miss how it used to be, when you did not look at me as if I were the devil, but as a… a friend." She forced her eyes to half open, gazing at him beneath her eyelashes. "I miss your teasing, and bloody hell Jack, I even miss your obnoxious flirting."

He shook his head. "Ah, but my dear Miss. Swann, those reasons only profit you." His thumb continued its journey across her skin, venturing around her rose petal lips slowly now.

Holding back the urge to lick her lips, Elizabeth replied, "But in the long run, you'd gain some benefit for forgiving me."

He arched a questioning eyebrow.

"I'd… I'd be in your debt to do anything."

His finger paused for a moment, and his eyes flashed across her face as he caught on slowly. "Anything?"

She nodded.

Slowly, he asked with a leer, "And what if I don't want to forgive you? I could very well take what I want without asking."

Shaking her head almost numbly, she told him, "But you wouldn't, I _know_ you wouldn't."

Taking Elizabeth by complete surprise, Jack daringly brought his mouth to her ear, teasing the soft flesh of her earlobe between his teeth and with his tongue. Unable to control herself, she gave a light moan, her head pressing against the wall as a wave of heat that washed over her.

"How do you know, love?" he heatedly breathed into her ear.

"Because… because you're a good man, and I trust you," she exhaled, her hands splaying against the wall she found support on that she suddenly needed.

At that moment, his tongue brushed over a particularly soft spot behind her earlobe, and a much louder almost animalistic sound escaped her throat, her eyes clenching shut. Satisfied, Jack grazed over the spot again, his own breath becoming slightly ragged at her hums of pleasure.

He growled, "You should never trust a pirate darling."

"You're not just a pirate Jack… you-" –she inhaled sharply- "you have a heart, and when you're not acting like a bloody idiot, hidden behind that mask of yours, I know you use it." Whimpering slightly, she reached up and desperately grabbed the lapels of his coat, clinging to them so hard that her knuckles turned white.

Slowly, each strand of restraint began to snap separately, one by one like a rope weighed down to its limits, her self control dwindling with each passing moment. She knew that it was only a matter of time before all sensible thoughts left her mind, but she could not bring herself to do anything to him, to push him away and flee his cabin. If she did not, she knew a turning point would come that may change her life forever.

_Big trouble losing control,  
__Primary resistance at a critical low,  
__On the double gotta get a hold,  
__Point of no return, one second to go_

Pulling away from her ear, his nose brushed her cheek. "If I were to forgive you now, what would I gain in return?"

"Me, for the rest of the night to do with as you wish." Her mind was barely registering her own words, the syllables rolling off her tongue eagerly even though she couldn't quite hear herself over the deafening roar of blood that rushed through her head at that moment.

His warm breath sent shivers down her spine as it spilled out onto her cheek heavily. "Anything?"

Incapable of saying anything, she nodded.

Quickly accessing the situation at hand, he turned her head so they were facing one another, his eyes digging into hers so intensely that she felt as if he were reading her thoughts.

"For tonight love, you're not engaged."

She nodded, understanding. "I'm sorry Jack."

"It's in the past love."

Without another word, he pushed her against the wall, and kissed her.

His lips were a heavenly pressure against hers; rough and chapped, they seemed to fit perfectly against her own, warm and inviting. At first a slow, tender kiss, it quickly turned heated and zealous, both ravenous for one another like animals starved from lack of any type of fare. Yieldingly, Elizabeth allowed his tongue to mercilessly part through her lips, eager to explore her mouth, the taste of his lips intoxicating her – a strange mix of spices and rum, it was blissful, and she craved it like an alcoholic to the devils drink.

Any bit of restraint or control suddenly shattered into millions of pieces, and she fell into a spiraling oblivion of everything she craved from him, everything she needed from him, her selfishness and cruelty overpowering any sense that told her to stop at that moment and leave. She wanted him at that moment, and nothing was to defy her from her desperate and rapacious need.

With difficulty, Jack wrenched his lips away from her bruised mouth, and then began planting open mouthed kisses from her porcelain jaw, down her neck, nipping the skin along the way. Her breath hitched, coming out in short erratic gasps now. She had never been treated so, with such passion and undeniable want - not even by Will. Every touch, brush of skin, and feeling was new to her, and she found herself subconsciously grateful that it was Jack causing all these new emotions and feelings, instead of her fiancé.

His breath was as uneven as hers, ardent and laborious in her ear. He felt as nervous as she, his thoughts not being able to process when he had last been with a woman who hadn't lost their maidenhood - but it was not only that; he had longed for her since he had first laid eyes upon her and he could not deny that now what he craved for was finally in his hands, he was almost unsure as to how to handle the sudden bout of emotions only she could make wreak havoc upon him. Something made him feel the need to be tender with her, like that of a virgin on their wedding night, and even protective. Though it would painfully be their first and only night together, he felt as if she'd be with him forever.

Only trembling slightly, Jack's hands started undoing the many clasps and ties to her heavy-plated armor, his lips still glued to her neck. Elizabeth's eyes were shut, her body sending waves of blood through her veins at dazzling rates; did he make every woman feel like this, so indisputably wanted, so sublimely cherished?

Managing to get off the thick belt that wrapped around her stomach, the rest of heavy plated garb came off easily, sliding off her shoulders onto the ground, revealing a dark colored tunic and breeches made from a rough scratchy material. Before he could do anything else, Elizabeth began pushing off his coat, and then tearing and clawing at his belts and sashes, eager to meet the bronze prize beneath the many layers that seemed to mock her by never ending. Once only his white cottony shirt was left, she pushed through the neck of it, almost naively spreading her hands across his collarbones and sliding down his chest, reveling at the way his muscles tensed beneath the pads of her fingers.

Jack's lips left her throat, a groan rumbling deep in his chest. Pressing his mouth back to hers, he slipped his hand up the rim of her shirt, skimming over her side slowly, making her body shake, eager and nervous at the same time. When he finally reached her breasts, she broke the kiss, his name spilling out from her mouth in barely audible gasps, her body trembling.

Hitching her legs up, Elizabeth wrapped them around his waist, and her arms around his neck. He automatically draped his arm around her back, pulling her from the wall. With ease, and never breaking the kiss, he carried her to his private cabin, where he untangled her from his body, and set her on the bed, the pressure of her body against his leaving for only a moment – once lying down, she pulled him down upon her, kissing him again vehemently.

Soon, he was tugging at her shirt, and she conceded to his request, allowing him to pull the shadowy abrasive material over her head. She watched as his eyes became even more clouded when they raked across the pale skin of her chest and stomach, and she blushed, moving her arms to cover herself. However, he would not have it – ensnaring her wrists with his hands, he shook his head.

"You're beautiful love - don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise."

Something in those few simple made something in her break. What looked more like ripping then pulling, she hastily removed his shirt, taking a moment to marvel at the tattoos and scars that littered his body, his skin a canvas, full of the art and blemishes. Leaning up, she kissed his neck, fanning her hands out by where is heart was, inebriated off the feeling of their unclothed skin touching. She pressed her lips to scars, traced tattoos, her eyes pleading to know the tales behind each one, to know how each tattoo felt to get, how painful each battle wound was to receive.

Reassuringly, he kissed her once, his fingers lingering over the hem of her breeches. Biting her lip with feverish anxiety, she nodded once, and then they were off, his soon to follow, leaving them both completely unclad.

Jack's eyes bore into Elizabeth's for a long while, waiting for her to change her mind now and run, flee his room like he suspected she would. However, when she did nothing but grab his shoulders, he kissed her and sunk his hips against hers, pressing into her. She grimaced, her eyes clenching together, and her nails suddenly dug into his shoulders, a small cry escaping her lips when she pulled away for a moment, only to have her lips recaptured by his in a desperate effort to distract her from the pain.

His movements continued, faster and deeper, and she soon found the ache going away, replaced by an indescribable feeling of pleasure. Screams began to break the still night air, her grip tightening, nails grazing his back– her brain was blank, all her sensible thoughts gone, taken over by the blissful feeling she was experiencing. She was incapable of any response even though all the alerts in her mind at that moment were flashing a vivid red. They were both being dragged under into a spiraling tunnel of euphoria, surrounded by the feelings of passion and fervor; both finding their downfall in each other, they gave in entirely, and relished every minute of it.

_No response on any level, red alert this vessels under siege,  
__Total overload, systems down, they've got control  
__There's no way out, we are surrounded,  
__Give in, give in and relish every minute of it_

* * *

Weak blades of sunlight pierced vainly into the room, the rays scattered across the cabin in a struggling attempt to brighten it. Elizabeth lay awake; her cheek pressed against Jack's chest, she eyes closed as she slowly drank in each second of that moment, stacking every bit of it neatly into her memory. She absentmindedly caressed his arm, enjoying the warmth his body, and how it felt to be curved along beside him, fitting flawlessly against him. She could hear his heart beating, slowly, tranquilly and she sighed; if only time would freeze, and she could lie there forever, in the arms of the man she dared to say she loved.

_Freeze, awake here forever, I feel a weakness coming on._

Leaning up, she gazed at the face of the pirate beside her – his hair was scattered beneath him, fanned out across the pillow while his lips were opened slightly, breathing in and out lightly. She found it slightly ironic how a man that had caused so many problems around the world and was feared among the seas could look so innocent in his sleep, resembling that almost of a child. Forcing a pained smile, she ran her finger down his cheek once and then quickly untangled herself from him, careful not to wake him.

Elizabeth glided across the room, fetching clothes that had been torn off in heats of passion and putting them back on, her skin protesting to the feeling of anything that wasn't the skin of Jack. Once everything was on, she attempted to tie the strings and re-clip the clasps on the back of her armor, but she could not, and in frustration, gave a low growl, dropping her hands to her sides in defeat.

"Throw me my pants love, and I'll help you."

Turning, she discovered Jack to be awake, sitting up with his head in his hands. Frowning, she fetched his breeches and tossed them to him, only to turn her back to him.

"How long have you been awake?" she inquired lightly, cursing herself when her cheeks began tingling slightly whilst she heard him stumble from the bed, perfectly naked.

"Since you began running those lovely fingers of yours up and down me arm," he grinned, tying his trousers.

Elizabeth's lips twitched, but she held back a smile, lifting her arms when she felt his presence behind her. He began pulling at strings, his breath tickling her ear when he asked, "Too tight?"

She shook her head, trying to concentrate on the wall in front of her.

It was quiet while he set to work. Outside on deck, men could be heard checking last minute provisions and running about, everyone sounding increasingly more nervous then the night before. Elizabeth pondered for a moment if it had been noticed that she and Jack had been gone all night, but then she recalled how everyone had been decidedly more drunk then usual last evening.

All too soon, he was done, pulling away from her and swiftly moving about and grabbing his own clothing. Keeping her eyes off him, Elizabeth strode to his main cabin where she found pins and ties still littered on the floor. Licking her lips, she picked them up and began redoing her hair, finding it far more difficult without a mirror. When she figured her tresses probably looked almost the same as before, she plopped her hat onto her head and turned back to find Jack watching her curiously. He arched an eyebrow when he saw her hat.

"Did I ever tell you that I don't like that hat, darling? It looks too… adulterated." His eyes glimmered with humor.

Holding back a grin of her own, she sent him a disapproving look. Fixing a few strands of hair, she sighed, her light mood leaving as quickly as it came."

"I hope you know what you're going to do today," she said quietly.

Pressing his lips together, he moved towards her. "You've no need to worry love - I'm-."

"Captain Jack Sparrow."

Tilting her head upwards, she kissed him, knowing that this day would tear her to pieces if she lived to see the sun set along with Jack and Will, for she had in the end, chosen Will. Despite everything that had been unsaid yet spoken mutely to one another the night before, she had known all along that she could never bring herself to ask Jack to do the unthinkable, to give up his freedom for her.

It hurt more then she could describe, and she kissed him harder in attempts to swallow the ache; only he could make her feel like this right when she did not need it. She had never planned this all to happen, to fall in undeniable love for him, and even make love to him. Only he could have done this to her. Only he could cause things that were not meant to be, _to_ happen. Only he could get away with making her feel things she did not want to feel.

Only he could have done this, because he was Captain Jack Sparrow.

And even after everything they had been through, she still blamed him for all that had occurred, for she had too much pride to admit to herself that she would have normally allowed these things to occur with any other man.

_It's not meant to be like this, not what I planned at all,  
__I don't want to feel like this, Yeah,  
__No it's not meant to be like this, it's just what I don't need,  
__Why make me feel like this, it's definitely all your fault._

Tearing her lips from his for the last time, she gazed into his eyes once more without a hint of hatred or odium, but with that of melancholy and sorrow. She ran a finger over his lips once, and then turned away, moving towards the door. She hovered in the frame for a moment, almost indecisive. Looking back, she saw Jack with his back to her, his head bent down looking at something.

"Jack?"

Whatever it was, he snapped it shut when he turned to her. "What, love?"

"I'm sorry."

_It's all your fault._

"As am I."


End file.
